I knew that one of the most interesting arcs of the entire second season was approaching.
On social media, countless pages spoke of how exciting it would be: the animation, the battles, the emotional impact, and the transformation it would bring to one of my favorite characters.
When I first watched it, I was sitting at the edge of my bed, paying attention to every detail… but I never imagined that one day I would live it myself. Honestly, no one would ever think of that.
I walked slowly through the crowded street, surrounded by people pressing against one another. The air was thick with laughter, music, and the smell of street food. Neon lights and paper lanterns illuminated every corner, while people dressed as monsters, heroes, and anime characters blended together in a carnival of colors. Shouts of joy mixed with the constant murmur of footsteps and conversations, creating a chaotic symphony that seemed to swallow everything. I wore a devilish costume, and Yamikiri rested strapped to my back, ready to be unleashed the moment things spiraled out of control.
Yet no matter how hard I tried, my mind couldn't recall exactly how the Shibuya Incident began, nor what unfolded during it. It was strange: in previous events, even with some variations, I could remember what happened. And although I couldn't change it, at least I could anticipate and reduce the danger I had to face.
This time, if not for the announcements, the countdown to the massive event, and the constant alerts from our sorcery school teachers, I would have overlooked it entirely. I only remembered fragments of what people said online, like distorted echoes of an inevitable future.
As I passed, people stared at me with curiosity. Yamikiri drew every gaze, appearing mystical and ethereal under the moonlight. Many were distracted by her beauty, ignoring the danger she represented—perhaps thinking she was just a fake prop to match my costume.
The street was far too crowded for my liking. Back in my country, a crowd like this meant you'd return home without your phone or wallet… but compared to what was about to happen here, that seemed insignificant.
I leaned against a nearby wall, crossing my arms over my chest, watching the festive crowd—completely unaware of what was coming. In the shadows, I could make out the constant pacing of directors scanning the area frantically, as well as sorcerers whose names I barely remembered.
The curses had sent a warning to the school: their "promised day" would arrive near Halloween. That was why several of us had been dispatched to watch over the crowd, though everything seemed to be unfolding without incident.
This time, I was under my father's orders. He was furious at being assigned to guard a zone he considered "safe."
I looked around carefully, nerves tightening every muscle. This time, I couldn't anticipate or avoid the danger. My memory was blocked, and that uncertainty made me even more anxious.
Seeing the smiling faces of all those people who would surely die tonight… even if they were just extras, characters who didn't exist in real life… was heartbreaking.
I clenched my arm tightly, grinding my teeth in frustration. I wanted to save them. I felt useless, watching death draw closer, invisible but inevitable.
—Kuroha —my father's authoritative voice came through the communicator.
—What? —I answered, my tone dripping with venom, harsher than I intended.
—Focus, brat. You're too distracted.
—I don't need you to remind me. —Every time I spoke to Ren, my voice changed involuntarily. It was Kuroha's soul recognizing him as her enemy.
He didn't reply again. Only the electronic click of the communicator shutting off. I pushed myself off the wall and kept walking, Yamikiri glowing fiercely, resonating with my emotions.
In the deepest shadows of the night, small curses lurked, eager to snatch any careless reveler. With a swift motion of Yamikiri, I cut them down before they could spread.
I kept walking, watching the festive crowd—too cheerful, dressed as monsters and heroes. I lifted my head toward the sky, annoyed by the sheer number of people around me. The moon shone serenely, but deep inside I knew that calm was only the prelude to the storm.
I gazed at the night sky: the moon shone serenely over a black mantle of stars, barely visible through the glow of neon signs and street lamps. The shouts and songs of the crowd echoed close to me, a festive chorus that seemed endless…
And then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the sky changed. The starry firmament turned crimson, as though it had caught fire. The moon became a red so deep it looked forged from blood.
—Eh!? —Terrified, I looked around. Even the festive colors that decorated the streets had shifted into a dreadful scarlet.
—What is… happening? —My fingers flew to the communicator—. Dad! Can you hear me? Dad!
Static was my only answer. My blood froze, and I stood paralyzed. Had I been trapped inside a barrier?
Impossible… barriers looked different…
I looked around desperately, my skin crawling, my body jolting at every faint sound that broke the silence. The air grew heavy, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Then, a gaze pierced me to the core, forcing me to turn.
In the distance, I saw someone running toward me. An enigmatic, almost childlike smile stretched across pale lips. Scars marked his face, the largest cutting across it from end to end, and his long hair, tied into three ponytails, whipped in the wind. The moment I saw him, my body snapped into full alert.
I knew him all too well. Mahito.
As he drew closer, I dodged with a swift movement, but he collided with a young man standing behind me.
Horror gripped me as the boy turned to face him… his features twisted grotesquely, his body contorting until it exploded in a rain of blood. Screams erupted instantly; the crowd scattered in chaos, shoving and trampling each other to escape the carnage.
—Well… oops. —His voice sounded innocent, cruelly contrasting with the massacre he had just caused.
Was this how it had to begin? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't recall how the Shibuya Incident started. My mind was blank. The crowd became a storm of bodies, and my survival instinct screamed at me to run. But I couldn't.
Every thought fell into the background. I forced myself to face the challenge before me, hiding the chaos raging inside. Yamikiri pulsed against my back like a foreign heart, vibrating with fury, demanding to be unleashed.
—You're a sorcerer, aren't you? I'll have to kill you before you ruin our plan. —His smile remained childlike, almost captivating, but his words froze my blood.
The crowd had already fled far enough that I wouldn't harm them by accident. I released Yamikiri, who roared furiously, vibrating with hunger for battle. Her chains rang like war bells, and the blade gleamed with a cold light, reflecting the blood-red moon. The air grew dense, almost suffocating, as if the city itself were holding its breath.
—I see I have no other choice… —I raised the scythe, its energy expanding like a halo of shadowed light.
I calculated my chances. I knew who he was and what he could do. As long as he didn't touch me, I would be fine. But he had no idea who he was facing. I had made sure no one knew of my existence. And Sukuna's interest in a power I barely understood was already more than enough to bear.
A twisted grin spread across his pale face before he lunged at me. I lifted Yamikiri and charged as well, the clash inevitable. The silence of the street shattered with the thunderous impact of our first strike.
I knew he could reshape his body at will. I split Yamikiri into two smaller blades, expanding my range of attack without him noticing.
His eyes widened when I shifted my trajectory, slicing deep into his abdomen. I followed with a swift strike to his arm, severing it. He fell to his knees, blood spilling like a dark river across the ground.
—Oooh… —he stared at the crimson flood pouring from his wound—. Well, this really hurts… —from the void where his arm should have been, a grotesque mass emerged, reshaping itself into a new limb.
—Tch… —I knew it wouldn't be easy. I stepped back, keeping distance, while he seemed delighted by my fighting style.
—Let's keep playing. —His grin widened. His body twisted, transforming into blades that shot toward my neck. The air whistled with each strike, and I barely managed to deflect them with Yamikiri's force. One nearly severed my arm. This time, I focused more on survival than attack.
I glanced around: most of the people were far from us now, but still within dangerous range of our fight. I tried to retreat, but that only drew his attention further. He was a predator, and I was his prey.
The moonlight glinted off Yamikiri's blade, as if whispering a command. I spun sharply, facing his advance.
—Moonlight Slash! —I cried. A brilliant azure light burst from the scythe, cutting through the darkness and striking him like a bolt of lightning.
The attack illuminated the street, casting twisted shadows across the walls. I walked toward where his body should have fallen, though I knew it wouldn't be enough. As I approached… there was nothing. The silence pressed down heavier than before, as if the entire city were waiting for the next move.
I was caught off guard when I looked up and saw him descending from the air, aiming a kick straight at my head. I moved quickly, but he managed to slice a deep cut across my cheek.
I staggered back several steps, and then I saw the barrier rise, enclosing all the people who were still trying to escape. Many slammed against the invisible wall, pounding it in desperation. The agonized screams of those who fell and were trampled froze my blood.
—Well, well… looks like we've started. We'll have to move faster. —He turned his attention back to me, his childlike smile twisting into something cruel.
I leapt beyond the barrier that had trapped us, and once outside, I spun Yamikiri in my hands. The scythe began to generate a tornado of lunar energy, a vortex that swallowed Mahito whole. Like a blender of light and shadow, it tried to tear his body into pieces.
—My ritual channels the power of the moon through Yamikiri. Its phases and its color determine its strength… and tonight is a blood-red full moon. You can imagine what that means. —I halted the spin, and a polymorphic mass fell to the ground not far from me, writhing grotesquely.
I approached, raising Yamikiri high, the blade gleaming with icy brilliance. But before I could strike, tiny creatures burst from the mass, scattering in every direction like ravenous insects.
—Agh! —I sprinted after some, cutting them down with precise slashes, but in the end several managed to escape into the crowd.
—Well… I suppose that went better than expected. —I muttered, fastening Yamikiri back onto my back, my breath heavy and uneven.
I stepped back into the barrier. The people inside looked around in terror; some already showed signs of claustrophobia, pounding against the invisible walls with frantic fists.
—It's fine, those two lunatics are gone.
—Yeah, I saw when the girl left with the stitched-face guy.
For a moment, I wondered if it was wise to approach. Finally, I shrugged and tried to move unnoticed. As I walked closer, several people stepped aside, their eyes wide with fear—perhaps at the blood dripping from Yamikiri and from my cheek.
Fear and confusion reigned in that place, spreading like poison through the air.
I reached out toward the barrier, but a voice stopped me.
—Don't do it!
—What happened? —I asked, confused.
—Yes. Apparently, you're the only one who's trapped inside. —I didn't recognize the voice on the other side, likely a supervisor—. Find the cursed objects sustaining this barrier. It's the only way we can enter.
—So that means I'm the only one here? But how is it that I can move in and out without a problem? I just came back in…
—This barrier chooses who can cross. Non-sorcerers can't enter or leave; some of us can. How are things inside?
—Everyone's fine… except for one casualty. My mistake. I reacted too late.
—Don't worry. But please, find the cursed objects sustaining this barrier. It's too large; there must be several. We're still investigating from this side.
—Understood. I'll work on it. —I turned and sprinted away.
Where were those objects? I had no idea. But they had to be somewhere along the edge of the barrier. I leapt onto the rooftops, scanning carefully, searching for its limits.
—We want Satoru Gojo! We want Satoru Gojo! —the crowd's chant echoed in unison as I moved farther. Curious, I descended and approached them.
—Who is Satoru Gojo? —I asked innocently. The boy turned to me, frightened.
—I don't know. Someone told us to shout his name so they'd let us out.
—I see… —I slipped away, trying to remain unnoticed. I had to find the cursed objects quickly, or at least a weak spot, before the crowd lost control.
I drew Yamikiri and slashed at the surface, but found nothing.
I kept moving, alert. Then I felt several cursed energies closing in.
A vortex opened behind me, sucking in everyone nearby. I buried Yamikiri into the ground to anchor myself.
People clung to me desperately, but the pull was too strong. I lost my grip, releasing them unwillingly. Their terrified eyes vanished into the abyss.
Seeing it in the anime was one thing… living it was another. I swallowed hard as the vortex closed. In its place, several curses surged into the barrier, charging at me and the crowd behind.
—Damn it! —I shouted, unleashing Yamikiri. But something struck my side, hurling me through the air. —Agh!
Clutching my ribs, I heard it—faint, distorted, like underwater—the frantic beeping of a heart monitor. I knew that sound: severe vital sign alterations. Pain stabbed my chest, breath came in ragged gasps.
Great… another month in the hospital. My colleagues would wonder how a rib had punctured my lung.
I forced myself up. Special-grade curses had entered too. The situation was far worse than I'd thought.
Suppressing the pain with cursed energy, I lunged at them, trying to hold them back from the people. Panic spread like wildfire. Screams rose, and the chant grew louder, desperate:
—Bring Satoru Gojo! Bring Satoru Gojo!
The heart monitor's rhythm pounded in my head, a relentless beat. With Yamikiri resonating more clearly, I fought, drawing the curses toward me.
And then, Gojo-sensei appeared.
—Ah… if you knew I was coming, why bother with this nonsense? —his voice was sharp, annoyed. In an instant, several curses vanished. —Working in the middle of an event like this…
—Gojo-sensei! —I cried, hope flooding me.
—Hello. Well, at least you're happy to see me, unlike this crowd that nearly killed me with panic. —He pointed at the people running in vain. —Now let's finish this. Rest, your wounds look serious. I don't want your father yelling at me.
—I'll be fine. —I nodded, trying to hide the pain coursing through my body.
Gojo-sensei looked at me curiously and nodded.
—Alright… we need to go down to the lowest floor. They say that's where the people who were absorbed were taken.
—Okay… —A strange chill crawled down my spine, as if urging me to stop him. —Um… Sensei…
—What is it? This isn't the time to be scared, kid. —He ruffled my hair casually.
—It's not that… but I don't think you should go down there.
He looked at me, surprised by my boldness, then smiled, ruffling my hair again.
—Don't worry. What could possibly happen to me?
Right… what could happen to the strongest sorcerer?
I walked beside him, though the feeling gnawed at me. My trembling hands contrasted with his relaxed demeanor.
Suddenly, I slammed into an invisible wall, stumbling back.
—Hey, this isn't the time to take a break.
—No… I hit something. I think it's another barrier… —I ran toward him, desperate. —No, please! Don't go!
—Hahaha, you should see your face right now. You look hilarious. —He laughed.
—N-no… don't go! You— —A tightness seized my throat, choking my words.
Faded memories flooded my mind, my voice desperate to stop the man before me.
—I'm sorry, kid. We'll meet again when this is over. —He smiled as he walked away alone, leaving me with the words trapped in my mouth